The Knaveheart's Curse

by Adele Griffin

  “Seems that the secret ingredient in this batch of gazpacho is . . . rat blood. Blech.” Maddy made a face for the others’ benefit, though she secretly liked the taste.

  “Rat blood!? Ew! That’s worse than any of your food-swap tricks.” Dakota grimaced. “Lisi’s room is at the end of the hall. She’d have to share with Zelda, because there’s no spare bedroom. Follow me.”

  “Locked,” Maddy pronounced, testing it.

  Hudson lifted an eyebrow. “Okay, do your thing, Susanality.”

  Again Dakota slipped through the door like mist and opened it from the inside.

  Lisi’s bedroom was pinkly, girlishly pretty.

  “Not a fun place for a Knave guest,” Maddy mentioned. She herself cringed at all the frills and flounces. Zelda’s few possessions—her guitar and some songbooks—were stacked neatly in the corner.

  Maddy opened a songbook, Doomed Tunes for the Faint of Heart. Inside, she found a pamphlet for Edgewater Retirement Condominiums in Jacksonville, Florida.

  “Proof,” Maddy determined.

  “Of what?” asked Dakota.

  “That Zelda’s not really a teenager, but a soon-to-be retired old Knave,” explained Hudson. “She’s finishing up the last days on the job, training the new blood. Meantime, she’s looking for a quiet place to rest.”

  It didn’t take long to find the rest of what Maddy sought. In the back of the closet was the box for Lady-swing Premium Golf Cleats—also known as the Box of Disgusting.

  Maddy rubbed her hands together. Apparently Zelda wasn’t so cagey if she’d chosen Maddy’s very own Box of Disgusting to hide . . .

  “The poison pick.” As Maddy lifted the box cover, the guitar pick gleamed like a spade. “That’s how Zelda is changing identities with Lexie. When Lexie presses this pick between her fingertips, she’s morphing her hybrid print into Zelda’s Knave one. Then when she presses the poison strings, they cut into her skin and transfuse her blood.”

  Hudson stared button-eyed at the pick. “Nice work, Mad.”

  “Thanks. I’ll steal this pick to be on the safe side, but I think it’s already done most of its damage.” With great care, Maddy used the edge of her cape to lift the pick from the box, and then she tucked it into the pocket that Carlyle had sewn into the lining.

  “Psst! People! And they’re heading this way!” whispered Hudson as Maddy’s ears picked them up, too, from inside the elevator as it pinged to the ninth floor. She recognized those voices. The Elcris family. Mr. and Mrs. plus Lisi and Adam. The whole unsuspecting, Knaveheart-harboring gang.

  “Up and out,” commanded Maddy as she jumped and swung into the windowsill, then opened the window. “Good, a fire escape. Move quick!”

  Hudson, already in bat form, flew through the window to alight on the ledge.

  Maddy checked over her shoulder for Dakota. “Chop chop!”

  “Nooo.” Dakota’s eyes were two pools of fear. “I said I was good at climbing up trees,” she squeaked. “But I’m all thumbs at getting down.”

  “Eeeee! I hear keys jangling.” Hudson fluttered. “They’re coming in!”

  Maddy snapped her fingers. “Ghost-glide through that wall into the hallway, and then you’ll have to take the elevator.”

  “Oh, okay.” Thump. Slam. Dakota hurled her body against the wall. “Except I can’t.”

  “What do you mean, can’t?”

  “When I’m nervous, my ghost traits don’t work as well.” Dakota continued to slam herself. Bump. Thwump. A green sprig fell out of her ear. Thunk. “My scared-er, dryad side takes over.” Thud.

  “Twenty feet. Sixteen, fifteen feet. Fast approaching. We’re outta time,” said Hudson. “Sorry, Susanality. Gotta fly.” He flapped away.

  “Get ghosty, Dakooty!” Maddy commanded, panic prickling her arms.

  “I can’t. Go, go!” said Dakota, shooing Maddy off. “It’s way worse for you to be caught. I’m not enemies with any Elcrises.”

  Maddy’s thoughts pinwheeled. True. But she shouldn’t leave her friend in peril.

  “I’m serious. Go!” hissed Dakota.

  Maddy went—but not out the window. It wasn’t fair to abandon Dakota. She dove back into Lisi’s closet just as the bedroom door flew open.

  15

  ALAS, ASLEEP

  What are you doing in my room?” Lisi demanded, using just as crabby a voice as Maddy would have expected.

  Maddy pressed her ear to the door. On the sly, she had to admit that she was excited for this fight. She always got furious when Crud and Hex stepped an uninvited foot into her room—and they were family. She couldn’t imagine the temper tantrum that spoiled Lisi might throw.

  “I’m super sorry,” said Dakota. “The doorman let me in. He, er, thought you were at home.”

  “Well, we weren’t. Jeez, look at all these leaves you’ve tracked in here. And why’re you wearing that dog barf green cape?”

  Dakota sounded apologetic. “My mom made me wear it. When it’s this hot, she worries about the ozone.”

  A moment of silence. Then, “Well, if you want to know the truth, D., I’m relieved you came by,” Lisi said softly.

  Huh? Maddy’s eavesdropping ear itched in surprise. She was?

  “You are?” asked Dakota.

  “Yeah, I thought you’d dropped me to be friends with that tiny gargoyle, Maddy Livingstone. Here, I even picked up a ticket for you.”

  “For me? Thanks,” said Dakota. “What’s it for?”

  “Club Lullaby’s Summer Solstice. It’s a fancy dance and raffle tomorrow night. I thought you could sit at my table with me and my family. Including my cousin, Zelda.”

  “Oh, lovely.” But Maddy could hear a wriggle of doubt in Dakota’s voice. “Where is this mysterious cousin of yours?”

  “Zelda’s not mysterious. She’s great. She sleeps a lot, but when she’s awake, she’s superhumanly talented at playing guitar. We didn’t even know we had any relatives from Denmark. You should try one of Zelda’s gazpachos—they’re a Danish delicacy. Speaking of, wanna eat lunch with us? Dad bought pizza and cannolis.”

  “Lovely,” breathed Dakota. “What’s a cannoli?”

  “They’re like éclairs, but better. Once Adam ate five cannolis and got sick on himself. It was grr-ohsss!”

  “Grr-ohsss!” Giggling, the girls left the room together.

  Maddy fumed as she opened the closet door, swiping a bunch of Club Lullaby dance tickets off Lisi’s bureau before she leaped out the window and skimmed down the fire escape. Here she’d tried to help Dakota, only to be traded away for pizza and a couple of cannolis! Her cloak snapped out behind her as she strode home.

  “Anyway, I’ve got more important things on my mind,” she said. “Like saving my sister.” She stared at the tickets in her hand. She’d only snitched them to be mischievous, but suddenly the lines of the Knave poem floated like a banner across her brain . . .

  As Night then falls to feast and dance / Diverted by a game of chance / A call is made upon phantom arms / To breake this curse’s deadly charms / And spiral Knaeve to dusty grave . . .

  Hey! Lullaby was having a dance and raffle. And a raffle was a game of chance, just like in the poem.

  But where were the phantom arms? The only phantom Maddy’d met this week was Dakota’s dad, and he was stuck in his portal. Could he be called out to break the curse? Could he help spiral the Knave to a dusty grave? And which Knave? The last thing Maddy wanted to do was send her sister spiraling.

  At the house, more terrible news. Pete and Hudson were sitting on Lexie’s bed. “Alas, she’s asleep,” said Hudson.

  “No!” Maddy slapped her hand to her forehead. “Then Lexie’s blood is blackening to Knav-ish ink. The dire destiny is coming true!”

  “I’m sorry, Mads—it happened so quick, it took me by surprise.” The pupils of Pete’s yellow werewolf eyes had enlarged, like two worried eclipses. “Right in the middle of trashing her pressed-fern bookmark collection, she collapsed. Now she won’t wa
ke up.”

  Maddy peered over. Wrapped from head to toe in mosquito net curtain, Lexie lay like a chrysalis, openmouthed and snoring.

  “No, no, no! Wake up, Lex!” Maddy jumped up and down. “Fire! Police! Hey, Lexie—you’re late for karate class!”

  “I already tried all that. It’s no use,” said Pete. “I’ve also put her hands in ice water, pinched her . . . I even let a silverfish crawl up her arm.” Pete bit his lip. “I really thought that’d do the trick.”

  “She’s still growing.” Hudson pointed. “Behold. Her shirt cuff buttons are popped, and her toes have broken through the tips of her boots. See?” He pinched Lexie’s exposed big toe. Then tickled it. Nothing.

  “Oh, poor Lex. She looks so uncomfortable, too.” Maddy patted her sister’s limp hand. She felt helpless. Of all the rotten destinies.

  “Let’s pull off her boots and replace them with her fuzzy bunny slippers,” suggested Pete. His voice cracked. “She loves those bunny slippers.”

  “Good idea.” But as Maddy leaned down to retrieve them, she spied more than her sister’s fuzzy bunny slippers under the bed. Also pink, but not cute, that rubbery tip of . . . uh-oh, was it really . . . ? Maddy pronged her fingers. By the end of its fleshy tail, she lifted up a dead rat the size of a soda can.

  The guys drew back in disgust. “Nasty.”

  Maddy swung the rat like a pendulum, testing its weight. Light as a husk. “Guess this is what stained Lexie’s teeth pink. She must’ve chugged it.” Maddy sighed and dropped the rat in a trash bag. More proof—vigilant vegan Lexie wouldn’t harm an ant, much less drink a rat.

  “What happens if Lex turns Knave?” Pete asked. “Be honest. I can take it.”

  “She’ll have to give you up,” said Maddy as she pulled off Lexie’s boots and replaced them with the slippers. “Knaves are land robbers and plague spreaders. Pretty much the opposite of anything you’d want to be around.”

  “But I want to be around Lex more than anybody else,” Pete burst out. “What can we do to stop the transformation?”

  “Good question.” Maddy wished she had an answer. Pete looked like he was going to melt with anxiety. “Our best lead is tomorrow night at Club Lullaby. Zelda’s performing. We’ve also got her guitar pick. Maybe we can use it as a lure to make her re-transform Lexie. Zelda can take any other heir. But not my sister.”

  “And if she doesn’t cooperate?” asked Pete.

  Maddy shrugged, though inside she quaked to say it. “Then it’s war.”

  “War? What kind of cock-a-doodle plan is that, Mads? You can hardly cross the water to get to Lullaby without petrifying,” Hudson reminded.

  “We might only be hybrids, Crud, but we’ve still got some awesome vampire energy!” Maddy burst out. “Where’s your Old World fighting spirit?”

  “Maybe you should tell your parents about all this,” suggested Pete. “They’re part vampire, too.”

  But Maddy and Hudson knew better. If their parents found out, all they’d do was tell the Argos, who’d hand over Lexie as quickly as loose change. One hybrid vampire sacrificed for the good of many.

  “It’s not the Argos we need,” said Maddy. “It’s phantom arms, from the line of the poem.”

  Pete looked puzzled. “Do we know any phantoms?”

  “One,” Maddy admitted. “And I’m not exactly sure how to get hold of him.” Nor did she much want to. To get in contact with Dakota’s dad meant getting hold of Dakota, and Maddy was still mad about how her almost-friend had run out on her.

  But now was not the time for grudges.

  Maddy squared her shoulders, then marched upstairs and made herself sit down in front of the computer. Flexing her fingers, she quickly typed:

  Dear Dakota,

  I need your help. A lot.

  Please come over tonight. Bring your ghost dad.

  Thanks.

  Maddy

  P.S. I forgive you for trading me for cannolis.

  16

  DOUBLED DANGER

  Nothing’s waking her up tonight,” pronounced their father that evening. He and their mom were standing outside Lexie’s bedroom. “Thought my edamame-and-red-pepper salad with mustard vinaigrette’d do the trick. Guess my girl’s got more growing to do.”

  “Too much growing,” her mother said with a sigh. “Her appointment with Dr. Harte is this Thursday.” She shut Lexie’s door. “And not one day too soon.”

  Maddy and Hudson exchanged a worried glance. Even though they’d decided not to alert their parents, they hated to see them so distraught.

  “Night, kids.” Their mother kissed the tops of their heads. “We’ve got a long day of rehearsal tomorrow, so please check in regularly on your sis. And tell her to call us when she wakes up.”

  “Sure thing,” they chorused.

  After their parents retired for the night, they ran back into Lexie’s room and opened her window. Dakota was waiting on the leaf-strewn ledge. A clarinet was sticking out of her backpack.

  “Thanks for coming,” Maddy said.

  Dakota smiled like it was no big deal, but Maddy’s heart swelled with appreciation. It took a lot of bravery for Dakota to come back to a house with a changeling Knave in its walls.

  Now Dakota removed a square of ice-packed glass from her bookbag and propped it against a chair.

  “Afore mine eyes—a reflecting mirror!” Hudson hissed. He covered his face with his arms.

  “Chill out. It’s a portal,” explained Maddy. “Dakota’s dad is a ghost. We need him to coax Lex out of her trance.”

  “Ooh . . .” Hudson watched as Dakota’s dad’s image took hold in the portal. As Dakota began to blow into the clarinet, her father played, too, and the room filled with music.

  In her bed, Lexie stirred, then yawned.

  Dakota paused in her playing. “Is she knotted to the bed?”

  “Uh-huh. Crud and I did it. Lex has got to stay put. If she wakes up, she’ll want to find Zelda. But she’ll never escape these knots.” Maddy was glad she’d learned some rope tricks during the three weeks she’d spent in the Elf Scout troop. Her “triple-Houdini” plus “drowning-the-cat” knots were the next best thing to steel cuffs.

  Dakota resumed playing. One haunting tune melted into another.

  Come on, phantom arms, Maddy begged silently. Break the curse. But then Dakota’s father stopped and Dakota leaned forward, pressing her ear to the portal.

  “Dad says that Lexie’s too deep in her trance. If he wanted to help her, he’d need to come to the Other Side.”

  “Oh, tell him he’s totally invited!” Maddy exclaimed.

  But Dakota was shaking her head. “It’s not that easy. He’d have to be summoned.”

  “What does he need—a magic word? A secret code? I bet I could find it in my Old World recipe book. Wait—where’s he going?”

  “He’s fading,” said Hudson. “Nooo . . . come back.” But Dakota’s father was gone.

  With a sorry sigh, Dakota began to repack her book bag. “Dad needs to be called on from a higher authority than us to cross to the Other Side.”

  Maddy smarted. “How insulting.”

  Dakota looked unhappy. “I’m sorry we weren’t more of a help.”

  “Me too,” Maddy agreed.

  Dakota looked unhappier. She shook a scattering of greens from her hair and slipped through the room, gone before Maddy could offer her a late-night lemon-mint fizzie.

  “If you want Susanality to be your friend, you gotta get friendlier yourself,” Hudson remarked as they headed for the kitchen, where Hudson prepared their fizzies.

  Maddy scowled. She disliked taking friendship tips from her younger brother. She dragged the Old World recipe book from the top back of the refrigerator. “I think I’ve got the Lullaby transportation answer,” she decided. “You’re getting doubled.”

  “Me?” Hudson wriggled. “Why?”

  “Why not double your strength? The only reason Orville flew me across the water last week is because he�
��s not a weenie.”

  “Orville is also double my height and weight,” said Hudson. “No recipe in that book can double me. Hey, let’s cross over to Lullaby by hot air balloon. It’s a quaint old form of transportation, and we’d land right on the lawn—Mads, what are you doing?”

  “Concocting the Doubler. Sorry, bro. Balloons are pricey. Besides, you’ve got the wings—you’re going to have to suck it up, double up, and fly me over.” Chef Maddy was already pulling out ingredients for the juicer. Kale, parsnips, turnip, baby bok choy, red cabbage, and one large, violet beet all went into the pile.

  “I hate ’snips,” Hudson commented sourly as he watched.

  Maddy put a finger to her lips. “Shhh—I think I hear Lex.”

  “You do? I don’t.” But Hudson rushed off, leaving Maddy alone to stir in the rest of the ingredients. Additions she knew her brother would not enjoy—such as chewable vitamins, two tablespoons of wheat germ, and a teaspoon of cod liver oil.

  She dumped in a cup of blueberries to hide the taste, then added a shot of Tabasco for kick.

  “‘Set to jell overnight,’” Maddy read. “Cool. Nothing to it.”

  “Lexie’s fine—if you count being in a Knav-ish coma fine,” Hudson reported as he reentered the kitchen.

  “We’ll get her back. Lexie’s too fruity to go Knave. Zelda picked a terrible heir to the bloodline.”

  “Actually,” said Hudson quietly, “I think Lexie might be a great choice.” He cleared his throat. “Maddy, I think she’s a shifter.”

  “Shifter?” Maddy looked up sharply. “What’s that?”

  “Orville told me about it. A shifter has the power to take on the persona of other vampires and hybrids,” said Hudson. “Which is why, when Lexie is around Mom and Dad and us, she’s the fruity sweetiest. That’s how we want her to be.”

  Maddy thought. “But when she ran up against the von Kriks, she helped de-poison them. Her anti-pureblood instincts weren’t on guard at all.” Maddy was still bothered to think about how her sister had helped those rotten Kriks recover from her garlic cookies.

  “Exactly. Under Zelda’s influence, it’s been easy to transform Lex into a talented musician, which is what she’s always most wanted to be.” Hudson looked grim. “Just between us, I’m scared to defend Lex. Especially since a transformed Knave always slays her family to show that she’s cut the old ties.”